


Crash your helicopter into my ironclad heart

by lillovingsoul



Category: Henry Stickman (Video Games), Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But we fix it eventually, Canonical characters deaths and revivals, Charles Calvin is a treasure, Henry & Fate - a love/hate relationship, Henry learns to be a better person: The Fanfic, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Please tell me if something else needs to be tagged, Selectively Mute Henry Stickmin, Time Travel, Valiant Hero Ending | VH (Henry Stickmin), im joking but it makes sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26452195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillovingsoul/pseuds/lillovingsoul
Summary: Henry has been around for a while. He might have only seen 28 different years on this Earth, but really, if he counted the actual memories he had, the time he spent trying different things in his 28 years, he would probably double that amount overall.He had a special gift which he would rather call a curse most days.In other words, a story about the life of one Henry Stickmin, how he came to meet a very special pilot and had to halt his entire existence because of it.
Relationships: Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin
Comments: 104
Kudos: 672





	1. Prologue

Henry has been around for a while. He would say and think that himself occasionally, jokingly. People usually just laughed as him when he did, giving him condescending glances that read like: “ _Yeah right, buddy. You’re only 28 now, you haven’t seen nothing yet.”_ Henry was never insulted, although he did know how his words were more than true, a statement of “ _being around_ ” more than justified. He might have only seen 28 different years on this Earth, but really, if he counted the actual memories he had, the time he spent trying different things in his 28 years, he would probably double that amount overall. Because truly, sometimes he just got stuck in time loops for weeks, desperately trying and praying for his luck to turn the other way around for him for once, and it just never did, not until he tried every single little thing imaginable.

Henry has seen _a lot_ – saying that was never an understatement, no matter how little the people around him believed him. He had a special gift which he would rather call a curse most days. Sometimes he was relieved for its existence, but most of the times he was clear-headed enough to realize that if it wasn’t for this gift, he wouldn’t even have had to experience most of the awful and gruesome things that always seemed to happen to him no matter how careful he tried to be. Because, really, not being able to die and having to instead relieve the last significant choice you’ve made could only be surprising for so long. Could only seem like a good thing for so long. There was a time where Henry was so mad at this “gift”, he got himself hurt on purpose, repeatedly, but yet somehow his will to live never let go of him, and so he lived to try yet again and move on like he _didn’t_ just try to get out of the constant time loop that was his life. Like he was really trying. Talking to people, making plans, executing them, spending the riches.

Really, Henry doesn’t remember how it started – any of it. His childhood was cloudy and elusive. He spent most of it in an orphanage, no one ever told him where he came from, but he did find out eventually when digging through the documents in the head office: he had a wonderful, determined mother who was planning to take care of him all on her own up to the point when his mere existence killed her, and so he was left all alone with the only one taking care of him being Fate herself. She wasn’t the worst caretaker, really. Sometimes, Henry thought that this gift he had was Fate’s idea of saying sorry for how his life has started. A way to try whatever he wanted to eventually achieve whatever he wanted. The problem was, Henry could only want so much without knowing what was really worth wanting, without anyone near to show or teach him.

The orphanage wasn’t much fun. He didn’t try anything, was quiet and obedient for a while, but then he did see a boy playing with a cute, fluffy bear at the playground, and it just so happened that it caught his attention so hard, the only thing Henry could think of was: “ _I want that to be mine_ ”. Unfortunately, when he just silently got there and tried to take the bear away, he quickly learned that somebody bigger than you is most likely also stronger than you. He got pushed away and fell onto the asphalt with such force that his consciousness left him immediately, and there wasn’t much pain, fortunately. But the next thing he knew – he was back in his corner, sitting on the farthest bench away from everyone else, anxiously gripping the seams of his shorts at his sides and eyeing that bear again. And so without much thought, he just tried again. And again. Until a long while has passed, and he learned how the bigger boy was afraid of bugs and held him hostage with a caterpillar in his hand, pointing at the bear and giving him the most menacing look a 6-year-old could muster. And then he got the bear, and the time moved forward.

That was the first time he could recall his little “gift” working, even though he was sure there were many times before this. But from that point forward, he just learned that if he _really_ tried, eventually, he would always get what he wanted, one way or another. And so that’s exactly what he did.

When he got out of the orphanage at 18, he already knew of many things he wanted to get a hold of, to try and experience. All of them – a big pool, an ice cream machine, a cool scooter, nice clothes that fit, - he learned about from the children and adults around him. A girl would be playing with a doll and tell her: “I wish I had jewels like you”, and so Henry would look into jewels, find them shiny and pretty, and think that he would get the biggest, shiniest jewels he could find all to himself one day. A boy would go: “I wish I could spend my own money, this food sucks”, and Henry would look into it, understand and appreciate the benefits of financial independence, and decide that he would like a lot of gold and green papers so he could live comfortably.

He kept thinking about both, but getting a flat bigger than the box the orphanage provided him with seemed like a good priority to focus on. And so, he started looking into it too. Learned to pickpocket perfectly after a week worth of trying and getting caught at a grocery store near his house. Learned about jobs and how they bring _some_ money, but quickly rejected the idea, finding the thought of being stuck behind the counter or cleaning the toilets somewhere not worth the time that actually moved forward for him. He spent at least half a decade pickpocketing, stealing small things, clothes, food, and lots of miscellaneous things he found appealing, until he could actually afford a different, cozy flat. And that was alright, but as he got a hold of TV, having seen enough of it in the stores he stole from to know it had the information he would like to have the access to, his life turned around completely.

A bank vault in the middle of the dessert? Absolutely absurd, but oh so tempting. Before trying that though, he had to get prepared. In his years of constant stealing both for his needs and for the hell of it, he got a hold of a lot of different things he really had no idea what to do with, and some of them seemed like something he could really use on this heist – a strange teleporter device, a bunch of explosives, a small wrecking ball crane (that was one hell of a day for him, being suddenly enthralled by one of the machines at the construction site and trying to pretend to be a worker convincingly enough to just get a hold of one and drive it away, hiding it in the woods where he knew nobody went to until he thought of what to do with it next)… He knew he had all the time in the world to try it all, and so he did.

Until the only thing that worked ended up being an empty money bag he found behind the vault building on accident, and he got inside of it, got picked up by the bank people, got inside of the vault, and got caught immediately. He got so excited and triumphant when he realized he actually got inside of the vault that when the police surrounded him the only way he could react was by simply becoming highly annoyed. And then, as he kept thinking about how the cops are sorry bastards if they think they can really stop him from getting what he wants, he completely missed the point of no return, and found himself getting a ride to the nearest prison and getting put into a secure cell somewhere high above the ground. He really thought the time would’ve stopped and turned back by now, but for some reason, it just didn’t.

Frustrated, but never losing his determination, he just pressed on then. Escaping the prison, finally laying his eyes on a diamond and stealing it. Then for some reason this one time, the one who got stolen was him instead. Apparently the government found him interesting enough to build an entire operation all around him, which, really, Henry was kind of impressed and flattered with, since for as long as he could remember, literally nobody paid attention to him. He was the plainest looking guy he knew, which he kept the appearance of as much as he could too, since it was so useful in his crime endeavors.

The General told him about some gang called the “Toppat Clan” and how they had to get some evidence on them being actual criminals to take them down. If somebody asked Henry, he would’ve said he found both the name and the gimmick they had going on ridiculous. As a criminal, it’s important to stay hidden, not flaunt your intentions to everyone with your very appearance. Though, he could admit that holding together with a group of people who would have your back and had the same goal as you sounded like something he should try out sometime. Always thinking for himself and having nobody to listen to in that empty flat of his riddled with riches was really starting to get to him at this point. Sometimes he wished he could just have someone who lived a plain, straightforward life next to him, who only saw and lived one path – at the very least so he could keep track of which choices of the ones he made were the ones that stuck.

And somehow, the universe seemed to have heard him. Or maybe it was that dang Fate again trying to say her apologies for how out of the ordinary and completely messed up his perception of “living” got. In any case, whatever force pushed him to meet up with one Charles Calvin, he was thankful to it. Infiltrating the aircraft would’ve been a boring, needless task he would’ve been forced to do, if it wasn’t for a surprisingly welcoming presence of the young helicopter pilot guiding him through it. He spoke a lot, from the very moment Henry landed on top of the aircraft, and all through to his graceful leap back into the helicopter, magnified by the force gun he apparently had on him all this time. And to Henry’s surprise, somehow, he didn’t end up dying even once! Not once, during an actual military grade operation, infiltrating the airship full of criminals just like himself. As he settled into a seat next to Charles, strapping himself in and clutching the secret files close to his chest, completely lost as to how he didn’t choose anything wrong even once, he felt a hand getting a hold of his shoulder - a sudden but welcoming weight, something so foreign yet so thrilling and pleasant.

“You did it, buddy! Great job,” – Charles exclaimed through the noise of the helicopter, flashing a cheerful smile his way, and Henry just kinda let his own lips settle into one too, used to mirroring people’s emotions to get their trust easier, but for once meaning the emotions he was conveying.

Charles’ voice sounded even better up close. It was cheery and clear, and it was addressed to him alone. A welcoming change to the ever-present silence of his apartment and the conversations he always listened in on but never was a part of.

The pilot caught his gaze, and Henry realized he’s been staring all this time. “That’s it,” – he thought then, - “This is where it all goes south. Staring and keeping silent like a weirdo, that’s not what people do!”

But instead, somehow, Charles just smiled even more, letting out a small laugh and retrieving his hand away from his shoulder. Henry was split, really. He missed the sensation, but he also just got completely overtaken by the sight of Calvin smiling toothily at him, and the sound of his airy laugh he heard so clearly even with the roar of the helicopter engulfing them both. It was something he’s never experienced before, like a pretty picture he wanted to steal and a catchy song he just **had** to hear again, both at once, creating an even stronger sensation together.

Henry looked at Charles, still mirroring his smile, and the only thought that was present in his mind was once again: “ _I want that to be mine._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is happening :')  
> The 1st chapter is ready and it's much longer than the prologue, just gotta get through it again and fix some stuff.  
> I'm really not sure if I can carry this story through, since it is a looonnggg one, and I have barely reached the beginning of my plot notes by the end of the 1st chapter, but we'll see, I'll try my best :'D  
> If you enjoyed reading, feel free to drop me a comment to motivate me to work more on this shdjhj
> 
> ALSO here are some illustrations I did for this chapter:  
> https://lillovingsoul.tumblr.com/post/629259537744068608/this-is-an-illustration-to-the-prologue-of-my  
> and  
> https://lillovingsoul.tumblr.com/post/628731529493938176/i-started-writing-a-fanfic-here-are-some-out-of
> 
> **Note: I currently do not allow translations of this work. If you stumble upon any, please let me know. Thank you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments, it fills me with so much joy reading through them!! ;u;  
> This is going to be a bit more in-depth now, seeing as I'm adding a lot of context to the canon. I apologize if it might be a bit boring to read.. But I did have a lot of fun with it, no matter how unsure I am of it, so I hope you can enjoy it too :')

The government gave him a pardon for his achievement and very much needed help on their journey of getting rid of the Toppat Clan. An actual legit pardon, making him a blank slate once again, no cops on his tail, without a need to hide his identity anymore. He was a free man, and Henry had to admit, he missed the feeling.

But other than that, the government didn’t want anything to do with him. Which wasn’t surprising, he _was_ just a dirty thief to them after all. Really, Henry had nothing more to expect, yet somehow just having to wave goodbye as they all left, catching one last glance of the veteran pilot smiling at him once again as he took off in his trusty helicopter, not having asked for a way to contact him further or anything… Somehow, _Henry_ was the one who felt robbed then.

As he came back to his apartment, flicking the TV on and listening to the news about the Toppat Clan being basically in shambles, he tried to think about this rationally. Really, stealing a valuable asset from the actual government didn’t seem like a good idea no matter how hard he thought about it, and it actually made him feel sad, frustrated even. For the first time in forever he actually couldn’t get the thing he wanted simply by trying again and again. And moreover, he didn’t even understand _what_ he wanted completely.

He never wished to steal a person before. Heck, he didn’t even think he wanted to steal him – he realized that the thought of stealing was simply his only way of getting what he wanted all these years, when really, it was rarely ever a good one, especially taking all of the times he died or got injured when trying to steal in account. So, he understood well that actually trying to steal a person, especially a government pilot, wasn’t the way to go about this. But yet, doing something else just seemed so… wild. Actually trying to get into the military? He never thought he’d ever want to try, nor could he understand if that would even be something he’d like to do. Charles was one thing, having him near was something he needed, but he would have to do a lot of things other than that if he went with the government recruit route. Probably change his whole routine, be on watch 24/7… Heck, what if Charles wouldn’t even want to be near him? Or what if he just never got a chance to see him in the first place, stuck on the lower ranks. Charles _was_ someone very valuable after all…

“ _Really had to get charmed by the prized youngest veteran pilot, huh, Henry?_ ” – he chided himself, frustrated with how this whole thing seemed to be going nowhere and trying to search for someone to blame, yet only finding himself. – “ _Never the easy route… Never something nice and simple._ ”

What if he just tried to get some info on him? Maybe through the General. Maybe actually _steal_ the information from a military database. Ah, wait, then if he called Charles, he would find out about it and stealing probably isn’t something he would approve of…

The more he thought about it, the less he believed Charles would approve of him in general. And yet, the memory of him smiling at him back in the helicopter, so friendly and fondly, just never left his mind. “ _I want that,_ ” – the usual voice in the back of his mind kept telling him, - “ _I have to get it._ ” But no matter how much he thought about it, he either had very bad ideas of going about it, or very risky ideas that could potentially lead to Charles disliking him instead, and as far as Henry knew he’s never died when somebody disliked him before, so he probably wouldn’t be able to restart then and would just ruin everything permanently.

And so, for the next week, Henry never left his apartment. He thought long and hard about _what_ he wanted to get and _how_ he could get it. Kept questioning himself about it, yet the itch of “ _I need that_ ” never left no matter how hard he tried to ridicule it. He plotted heists, schemes, did research, plotted again, and yet all of his efforts eventually ended up down the drain, deleted, crumbled and stuffed into a trash bag, erased. Nothing he could think of was getting him anywhere, and a week has already passed since the moment he last saw Charles, which was starting to make him doubt his own memories, not used to going forward in time like a normal person without repeats, and that just lead to self-loathing and more doubt. But then he would fall asleep and hear that cheery voice in his dreams, and as he woke up, the way the voice never followed him in real life was starting to drive him up the wall.

And then one day, there was a knock on his door. Henry never got visitors before, and in his frenzy of thoughts his confusion got mixed with wishful thinking. What if it was someone from the government? Maybe they had another job for him? After all, he did so good last time, and he did so because he was working with Charles, so maybe they would even get them to work together again!

And so he didn’t even try to ask who it was, opened the door and was met with a fist to the face, immediately plunging his entire world in darkness.

* * *

When Henry woke up at The Wall, he could still hear Charles talking. Something about what kinds of movies he liked. Henry was never much into movies but maybe they could be more fun with Charles. In fact, for some reason, he didn’t even doubt that—

Henry winced as the lights suddenly turned on.

“Ah, hello, Henry. Welcome to The Wall,” – a voice with a thick Russian accent greeted him and snapped him out of his daydream. Stickmin was forced to listen, if only to gather intel about his surroundings and circumstances better.

Stuck at this weird establishment called “The Wall”, yet again Henry couldn’t help but be plainly annoyed. He got the pardon, done the mission for the government, why is he here again? Or do these guys think they’re above government? Somehow, thinking that the government would probably back him up in this situation felt both surreal and exhilarating. The more Henry thought about it, the better he understood just how much he was striving not to be the only one on his own side.

Yet, when faced with another inmate, a red-headed girl sulking on the floor waiting to be transported to a cell just like he was, Henry thought about it yet again. Getting help from a stranger like that… it didn’t feel natural to him. He didn’t talk much as is, and trying to gain someone’s trust in an already tense situation like this one seemed like the wrong way to go. Then again, he shouldn’t even be here in the first place. Maybe his usual method of brute forcing through it was actually justified this one time.

And so that’s exactly what he did – he tried different things as he ran through the guards, got into the lift, got outside, acquired a vehicle, got into a car chase… All for it to end in him stuck in a car hanging above a cliff, frightened and confused. He went through so much, and none of his current options felt like they’d fit the situation at all. As the warden kept talking, for once Henry felt real panic hit him – he was either supposed to be dead already, or was headed in a very wrong direction all this time, and none of those ideas he liked. And most of all, he just felt frustrated. For once he didn’t do anything wrong to deserve to be treated like a criminal, for once he was wishing for something other than riches and things, and look where that got him – no choice but to either die on the spot and retry again, or give up and try to find another way. Henry felt so tired though, would he even have the strength to try again before the routine at The Wall would suck his life away?...

And with that bitter thought, he simply didn’t decide on anything. And so the warden decided for him, pushing his car off a cliff.

Except, somehow, Henry’s hands found something to hold onto on their own as he fell, and he held on for dear life as the warden lectured the workers and the guards and as they all eventually dispersed. After that, it was a matter of a short hike upwards and onto the cliff again, a sneaky hitchhike on a passerby vehicle, and he was out and about again.

A free man, yet not necessarily an alive one.

It was weird. He went from being hidden, to being chased after by the police, to being cleared, to being locked up again, to being completely off the radar in a matter of a week. He has never been presumed dead before – heck, being on the actual run from the cops was something new to him as well, seeing as he hasn’t really been caught before the whole dessert bank vault thing. So finally being left alone after so many things happened one after another just felt… weird. Like he was missing something, out of the loop. But he did get a week-long gap of agonizing rest before getting caught up with The Wall, so maybe good old Fate was just giving him a breather again.

One thing for certain – coming back to his apartment would be problematic, seeing as he got stuck somewhere cold and far away, and that he’s also kinda not supposed to be alive right now, and if he tries to show himself, The Wall would probably hear of it immediately. So, a bit lost as to what to do and stuck in the tundra with not many options at all, when he found a lonely bar after having went through snow and wind for a couple of days, he didn’t really need to think much before deciding to go inside.

The first thing he’s noticed was – it wasn’t much warmer inside the building. And yet, no snow or harsh wind were in sight, so he decided to just settle down for a while, pickpocketing some money almost immediately and getting himself a hot cup of tea to hopefully actually warm up a little.

As he sat down, he couldn’t help his thoughts finally settling down and going back to the subject of his current interest. That pilot… hopefully at least he’s somewhere safe and warm right now. Then again, Charles _was_ a government pilot, and probably has to do things like back when he helped Henry get through the Toppat’s ship every day. Flying around, helping people – that sounded nice. Although also quite a bit dangerous. Henry caught himself thinking that letting somebody like Charles (nobody out there really _was_ like Charles though) constantly having to be in the line of action, someone who lived life as it went, without second chances, didn’t seem quite smart. Charles was valuable, and valuables usually got stored in the safest place possible.

Henry hissed, taking a sip of the scolding hot tea, and simultaneously slapping himself mentally. He shouldn’t be treating Charles like how he would yet another big jewel. Charles was valuable, but not as fragile, and certainly tons more sentient, with his own thoughts and desires. Henry wondered what somebody like Charles would wish to have… Maybe he would be able to somehow discover it so this whole “ _Charles might not like me at all_ ” thing could go much smoother? Then again, maybe giving him exactly what he would want without as much as having one whole conversation with him alone would get Henry in hot waters as well…

He didn’t really notice the evening turning into night, time flying by yet again as he focused on his current obsession. Which it really was one, he had to admit. He never really had to think of wanting something for so long, without as much of an ability to see in to sate his curiosity. On the one hand, it was agonizing. On the other, having something bigger and much more difficult to get to wish for was starting to be the usual thought for him, and so he haven’t really thought of stealing much instead of money for the cup of tea he got himself to stay warm. He had no place in his mind for a thought of stealing some pretty trinket, let alone for another bigger heist or plan.

So when the TV above him started talking about a Toppat orbital station, Henry didn’t really pay much attention. He already had a goal, and he never gave up before, so everything else could wait, no matter how absurd and tempting the idea of taking over a space station full of luxurious rooms and riches sounded.

But then there was something else besides the TV noises and the patrons mumbling around him. A sound of a fight. Firearms going off. The sounds of a chase, some cries, voices from the outside. Being used to appearing in the wrong place at the wrong time, Henry learned to go ahead and check things like that himself before they catch him by surprise, so, taking another swig out of the cup and letting the warm tea engulf his throat in a solid, protective feeling, he got up from behind the bar and stepped out to take a look at the calamity.

Toppats. Of course it was them, three people, one on top of a safe and two at its sides, looking smug and victorious as the fire missed them completely, a green beam from above picking the group up and granting them the most perfect escape Henry has seen for a while. Man, that orbital station really was useful, huh? Henry would’ve been jealous if it wasn’t for the fact that his brain yet again could only focus on one thing. And yet, he remained clear-headed enough to understand that witnessing the Toppats escaping couldn’t be the only thing he was here for, and also remembering the fact that the group was being chased by… someone.

Red headphones, young face, pistol at the ready one moment and lowered in defeat the next. This chase wasn’t a coincidence, Henry hearing it wasn’t a coincidence, and he would be damned if something so ridiculous as Charles Calvin himself standing at the spot the Toppats escaped from could even for a second be considered a coincidence.

Stickmin couldn’t even evaluate the situation properly, couldn’t think to reevaluate his choices, realize that maybe actually meeting Charles wasn’t a good idea at all considering how he could only seem to think of him as a prized possession ever since the moment he met him for the very first time. That maybe he should’ve done some soul-searching before this meeting, understand what he needed and wanted better, reevaluated his values up to the point of _not_ going completely wild over the very sight of money, jewels and riches. Maybe, if he did all that and became a better person in the process, maybe then getting someone like Charles Calvin to stay near him wouldn’t be an impossible plan at all. Maybe that’s exactly what Charles would respect and want out of a friend. A colleague. A teammate. A partner. A lo—

“Henry?” – Charles noticed him. Was hard not to, seeing as Stickmin was in plain view, stuck at the front of the bar, unabashedly staring at the pilot like a dang wild animal eyes its prey in complete stillness before leaping and ripping it to pieces.

Henry was starting to get a headache, he realized. Thinking so much and so ill about someone wasn’t normal, and he was starting to realize it the more he tried to justify it.

As he continued standing still, Charles approached him, at a pretty impressive speed. He ran to him, Henry realized. And as Calvin stopped in a meter from him, his arms going up towards him and then swaying back, Henry also realized that Charles was probably about to give him a warm greeting. Maybe a hug? That seemed like a start of a hug, but maybe Henry didn’t look like he matched Charles’ excitement well enough (lies, his heart was going a mile a second at this point) for the pilot to think it was appropriate.

“ _Damn it. **Damn it**_ ,” – Henry scolded himself and mentally cried in agony at the realization. God, he was so awkward when it came to these things, he had absolutely no experience when it came to actually being friendly and close to someone, no experience of the usual physical gestures like handshakes, hugs, shoulder pats, nothing of the sorts. But the more he thought about Charles, the more he wanted to experience all of it, and that train of thought was so agonizing to him, Henry just had to stop it completely or else he would’ve probably imploded in on himself right there and then.

Instead, Henry gave Charles a small smile, raising his hand up to give him a wave. Awkward, but acceptable, seeing as the pilot stopped searching his face for some sort of acknowledgement and finally lighted up again. As he did, Henry felt his insides light up as well.

“Henry! I heard you died!” – he exclaimed, and there was unmistakable, unmasked relief present in that voice. Relief that the awful being that was Henry Stickmin, someone who kept thinking of Charles as only a thing to own and keep near, was alive and well. Henry wanted to cry, he has never felt cared about in this way, and also never felt so conflicted when it came to something he wanted to get. The mere existence of Charles threw his whole life philosophy out of the window, and Stickmin just kept feeling lost and doubting his every thought because of it.

He wanted to get Charles. He didn’t want to fuck it up, and not in a way that he’s ever wanted before. Henry definitely felt a headache coming as he kept the appearance of a calm, friendly smile, gesturing for Charles to follow him inside as soon as he noticed the pilot start to shiver. Wouldn’t want the man to get sick, especially not because of him. Henry felt that he wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he did, which was both logical and terrifying. Setting the life of another higher than his own interests… Maybe he’s the one who was getting ill instead.

As they came inside and sat back down at the bar, Henry got a hold of his cup of tea, also gesturing for the barkeep to get another one. His hands were shaking as he made the gestures, but he tried to mask it the best he could, and anyway, it was cold out, and people trembled when they got cold. He’s not acting suspicious at all. Henry took a non-suspicious gulp of tea, gripping the cup like a lifeline, and let himself take a deep breath afterwards, trying to get both his heartbeat and thoughts under control.

Charles was sitting next to him, looking around, cheery as ever. He seemed comfortable and calm. Henry liked seeing him like this, he realized. There was also a certain satisfaction to it, knowing that he’s the one who brought Charles into this bar, into warmth and safety. Calvin seemed in his element here, legs swinging from a tall bar stool. As Henry looked up, once again stuck staring at Charles with a ridiculous amount of interest and attention to detail, the man caught his gaze and smiled.

“Well, somebody looks like he missed me,” – the pilot laughed lightly, and Henry felt his cheeks catching on fire almost immediately, dipping his head down and hiding his face behind his cup of tea. Charles was laughing some more but Henry was too afraid to look now to see the way he smiled at him in amusement. – “Hey, no worries, buddy, I’m just joking with ya! I mean, I’m pretty happy to see you too. Was really shocked to hear about your death from the General, you know.”

His tone of voice turned somber as the barkeep brought the man his own cup of hot black tea. Charles got a hold of it almost immediately, taking a small careful sip and grimacing slightly. Must like his tea in some other way. Maybe another kind, or just not used to the lack of sugar. Henry couldn’t help but be frustrated at the lack of information and not being able to push himself to just ask. Charles was easy to talk; he would’ve probably just told him. But Henry kept quiet, facial expression mostly hidden behind the cup, side-eyeing the man carefully, studying and gathering all the info he could get without actually having to ask for it.

“I mean…” – Charles continued, pausing. He gave Henry a hesitant smile, looking at him directly, and Stickmin had to fight the urge to look away. He didn’t really want to, but he did feel like he was about to be caught pickpocketing, only with Charles suddenly realizing how borderline creepy his obsession with him was. At first it felt natural, but the more Henry thought about it, the more self-conscious he felt. You’re not really supposed to want to kidnap someone after only hearing them talk to you once, are you? Not supposed to kidnap someone at all…

Charles gave him a sympathetic grin, looking away himself now, Henry probably looking worried himself for him to not want to make him even more nervous by staring. Stickmin might’ve not spoken to Charles a lot, but the way he treated people with respect and healthy boundaries was easy to read.

“You _are_ Henry Stickmin. A guy who gets out of everything. Hearing about you dying in captivity after you were supposed to be free… It was just so wrong on every single level,” – Charles explained, voice unsure. Henry listened. Really, getting so much attention, this entire dialogue being about him being great, was starting to get to his ego, but he was trying his best to keep it calm. Charles continued, now looking at him again, and there was something different in his eyes then. Something… soft and meaningful. Henry couldn’t grasp it. – “I really am glad you’re okay, Henry. Whatever those people at The Wall were thinking they were doing – they were wrong to do so. I will get the General to look into it, actually! I mean, he was surprised to know you got captured as well. We gotta show those people it’s not okay to just kidnap whoever they want!”

Henry winced, hunching his shoulders. A nail in the coffin. Of course, he would be a fool to say he ever thought Charles would approve of his kidnapping plans, but actually hearing about it left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He really _was_ awful, wasn’t he? None of his thoughts towards Charles were normal. He just got so caught up in getting what he wanted and constantly retrying, faces and places turning into a blur of color with every death, now actually going some time without that, having someone he didn’t just go through all the options with, it made him realize how unfair he was towards everything and everyone around him. Not giving much thought or attention to anything but his goals. It was natural to him, but it wasn’t really right, was it?

As Henry was sinking deeper and deeper into his existential crisis, he felt a hand on his shoulder once again, the sensation immediately reminding him of the last time it happened. As he looked up at Charles, noting how his face was showing clear worry, Henry thought that Calvin was probably just naturally affectionate and physical in general. With everyone. It wouldn’t be something special if he was doing it to a barely non-stranger, would it?

Despite that, he still relished at the sensation. It did feel special to him, and Stickmin has decided that for now, that was all that mattered.

“Hey, you okay? They didn’t do anything bad to you back at The Wall, did they?” – Charles asked, and Henry had to take a second to think. He did fail quite a lot when trying to get out, dying repeatedly. It didn’t really count though, did it? – “I’ve heard it’s a rough place, but it _is_ supposed to be a legal establishment, so if they did do something, we should definitely report it and get you some help.”

His tone of voice was serious, he meant what he said. It felt comforting, having somebody care, especially it being Charles. Having someone to back you up and offer help if needed. It was exactly what he wanted out of this whole thing, he realized – have Charles well, near, and just caring about him. Felt kind of selfish, but it was a good start to understanding the _what_ of his strange wish to get a hold of an actual person instead of a jewel this time. Henry let himself pause at that, cutting himself some slack – he _was_ new at this, after all, so he could afford to think a lot before actually understanding something.

By habit, he raised his hands and faltered immediately. He didn’t really talk, not if he could help it, especially not in a place like this one, full of people he didn’t know. On the airship, with Charles in his earpiece, it was easier. He was sneaking around then, not really caring about being heard wrongly, just about being noticed. While Charles _was_ someone he could actually feel himself being able to speak to, he just couldn’t do it right now. So instead, he decided to just give it a try, praying Charles would understand.

“They didn’t harm me,” – Henry signed, unsure. Charles seemed puzzled for a moment, watching his hands move, but then lighting up as a moment passed.

“Oh! You were signing! Sorry, I’m so rusty I almost didn’t recognize it,” – he giggled, an arm leaving Henry’s shoulder (warmth gone now, the only thing left behind the cold of being left alone) and instead bringing it up to scratch the back of his head sheepishly. – “So, they didn’t? Good! Good, thank you for letting me know.”

Charles seemed different now. Caught off-guard. Embarrassed, Henry deciphered. Cute, he also concluded.

“What brings you here?” – feeling the surge of confidence at his own thoughts, Henry pushed himself to actually ask more. Might as well, while he could. – “Just the chase?”

“Oh, uh, I mean! I was on a mission nearby helping from a distance when we noticed those three escaping from the perimeter. So I just followed them on my own since everyone else was too busy to,” – Charles explained, yet the sheepish demeanor remained. Henry couldn’t place the reasoning behind the change of mood, but it was pushing him to take initiative, so he couldn’t really complain.

“Will they not search for you?” – he asked, and immediately felt creeped out by his own question. If Charles came here without warning anyone, really, he could disappear without a trace and nobody would know where to search. Henry tried his best to push those thoughts aside.

“Oh, probably! I mean, my headphones are always with me, high range! But they’re probably still too busy with the mission to notice me gone, and I wasn’t doing much there anyway, so it doesn’t really matter,” – Charles explained, his speech quick, hurried. Maybe he was trying not to think about that as well. Instead, he gave Henry yet another smile, a little more confident this time, cheery. – “I don’t really care if I’m honest since I did meet you here! Man, that’s such a relief. And talking some more with you was something I wanted to do anyway, so two birds with one stone!”

He wanted to talk to him more. Does that mean Charles thought about him in his spare time, just like Henry did? Obviously he couldn’t be thinking in the same weird way Henry’s brain functioned, but still. He wanted to talk… Stickmin could feel his own heart thumping a heavy rhythm, the thought never leaving his mind now.

“Wanted to talk?” – with a surprisingly little amount of hesitation, Henry signed the question out. Charles looked taken off guard for a second as he watched his hands. Then for some reason he looked away, laughing unevenly and quietly. Strange.

“Y-yeah, I mean! We only talked about the mission back then, and you just seem, you know? I think what you do is impressive. Wrong, but still impressive. It’s not often that I get to talk face to face with someone from, you know… The other side of the law? Man, that doesn’t sound right…” – he concluded, trailing off as he looked away entirely. He seemed to have troubles being able to explain himself through words. Henry could relate to that and couldn’t help but feel sympathetic.

In a gesture _totally_ filled with great confidence and strength, Stickmin let his hand lay on top of the other’s shoulder, attempting to bring his attention to himself. Charles winced like he was shocked, but looked back immediately, eyeing his hand with raised eyebrows and then finally settling his gaze on Henry’s face, seemingly puzzled. Kind of looked like a lost puppy, Henry concluded. Those types of thoughts didn’t help his case at all.

“We can talk,” – he signed, retracting his arm and seeing Charles relax as he watched him sign.

“Oh! Neat,” – the pilot let himself say, laughing lightly. He seemed relieved. Did he really think Henry wouldn’t want to talk with him? Considering that Stickmin was the one afraid to make a wrong move when he met up with Charles just now, it was kind of amusing seeing how the tables have turned.

“What do you want to talk about?” – Henry pressed, and he really did feel more confident, seeing as Charles’ silence let him take the initiative. Him also watching him sign, looking probably the most attentive that Henry has seen him yet, also did give him quite a confidence boost. He liked being heard, Henry noted. It felt new but very much welcomed.

“Uhh, you know… Can you uh, pick locks?” – Charles blurted out, and Henry couldn’t help but snort at that. He felt like he was being interrogated by a child. Calvin smiled at him sheepishly, probably also understanding how silly his question was.

“Locks, safes, security systems – you name it,” – Henry let his hands move in a leisurely manner, enjoying seeing Charles’ bewildered expression grow.

“Oh wow! That’s… A lot! What about vehicles, ever had to take over any of those?” – the pilot continued, and honestly, for someone working for the government, he looked way too excited to know about all of the ways Henry was able to break into things. So enthusiastic about something he was supposed to be working to prevent. Henry couldn’t help but grin at Charles, finding it a bit more than just amusing.

“Read through a lot of manuals. Took over some police cars, trucks and a demolition crane once too,” – he admitted, Charles whistling at that. Henry snorted, eyeing the pilot who now seemed more relaxed again, entertained and peppy at getting the details of Henry’s work he apparently wondered about. It really didn’t feel like confessing to a government operative at all, and Henry should’ve felt uneasy about disclosing his achievements, but this was Charles. Stickmin simply couldn’t help himself.

“Hmm, remind me to never leave you alone with my helicopter,” – Charles teased, mouth open in a wide smile. - “Somehow I’m just sure you’ll not only be able to take over it but fly it perfectly too. You know, you just give me that kind of an impression!”

_That kind of an impression_? Henry had to think about this one. A veteran pilot saying that Henry seemed like he could fly an entire helicopter perfectly without ever seeing him being near one’s control wheel? To Henry’s bewildered realization, that definitely sounded like a compliment, albeit an out-of-the-blue one.

“Flattered,” – he signed, smirking, hiding being flustered behind an over the top display of confidence.

That seemed to take Charles by surprise as he blew out a sudden laugh, loud and high-pitched, hands immediately flying up to cover his own mouth in embarrassment. Henry relished in seeing the man desperately trying to get his laugher spur under control, cheeks dusted with red. Calvin gave up and went for his cup of tea, taking a couple of gulps and letting out a sigh of relief and several residual giggles as he finally calmed down.

Henry couldn’t help himself as he let his head rest on his hand, elbow on the table, openly eyeing the pilot in amusement. He was waiting for any more of those silly questions Calvin apparently had a lot of in that head of his, but mostly, Henry was just taking the chance to stare when it would be allowed. If Charles asked, he would just say it was part of this whole jokey dialogue. But of course, Charles didn’t ask. Instead, as he caught Henry’s careful gaze, his demeanor suddenly changed, getting visibly sheepish again, shoulders going up as he ducked his head and smiled at him unevenly. At that point, Henry couldn’t really make himself look away as he felt his smirk settle into a light, gentle smile.

“Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, why the sign language?” – suddenly, Charles piped up. His hands were locked together, fingers going over each other in a nervous dance. His smile never left, but it was obvious he was desperate to ask a question but wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. Nevertheless, seeing as Henry showed no signs of discomfort, just simply listening, Calvin pushed on. - “You talked to me during the airship mission, so I just, you know. Just asking, is all.”

“Too many people around. Too uneasy to use my voice.” – raising his head and freeing his hand, Henry signed, this time slower not because he was waiting for a reaction, but simply trying to find the right words. Hesitating for a bit, he added: - “It happens.”

“Oh! Okay, yeah, that’s perfectly fine. Thanks for explaining,” – the pilot babbled quickly, nodding, seemingly relieved at having gotten an answer instead of a rejection. Again, Henry could relate to that.

“No problem,” - he smiled as he signed, trying to be encouraging. Somehow, he just felt like he should be, like it was right, and it felt natural too – trying to help Charles talk as he made sure Henry is comfortable with their dialogue as well. Maybe this is just how people are supposed to talk. Henry hasn’t had to have a proper conversation in a long while, usually just finding the optimal way of doing and saying things and never lingering near someone specific. Charles was a special case. Somehow, Stickmin noticed that that happened to be the case many times now.

As Henry continued his train of thoughts absentmindedly, Charles returned his smile and looked away, sheepish again. But then, as his eyes darted upwards, towards the source of the noise, his expression changed. Henry looked up as well, noticing the TV with the news report on, still talking about the Toppats’ space station. Next to him Charles scoffed, judging by his expression apparently annoyed.

“Ugh, man. The Toppat Clan has been causing a bunch of problems for me lately,” – he complained, cupping his own cheeks as he let both of his elbows rest at the table. Pouting, Henry realized. Quite cute, he also noted, now almost a habit.

“Yeah?” – as soon as Charles gave him a glance, he signed, looking attentive. He felt like it too, but Henry was also used to not being understood correctly, so he just made sure Charles knew that he was heard. Apparently, Calvin appreciated that, as he smiled briefly but tiredly and turned back towards him fully, sitting straight again.

“Yeah, ever since they got that orbital station set up they've been super strong,” – as he said that, he seemed to thinking, maybe plotting even. Henry could almost hear the mechanisms of his brain working as he put two and two together, snapping his gaze back at Henry and lighting up. – “Now that I think about it, you and I made a pretty good team in the past! I bet we could take them out.”

As Charles spoke, he moved forward, much closer, once again taking a hold of Henry’s shoulder. Stickmin gulped. He could feel the warmth of the pilot’s breath on his cheek. It was paralyzing.

“It's starting to **get personal** ,” – Charles then announced with a dead serious tone. Henry just sat there, too afraid to move, staring at the pilot’s face in awe. He was _so close_ to him now… Then suddenly Charles giggled as if nothing happened, moving away, his hand sliding to Henry’s back and patting it lightly. – “Man, you should’ve seen your face! I’m just joking around, buddy.”

As Charles grinned at him, cheeks now the faintest tint of red, Henry snorted, one brow going up. Charles was a silly man, a funny man. A responsible and a caring one too, but never a boring one. Henry couldn’t help himself as he admitted, he just really liked Charles.

The pilot looked away suddenly, retracting his arm once more, giggling. Henry wished they could’ve just stayed like that, sitting down very closely, maybe holding each other. He missed the warmth of the pilot’s face near his. Stickmin felt like a child, understanding that asking for something like this when he and Charles were just starting to get to know each other would be weird, but wanting to ask anyway. However, he let himself stay still, letting those thoughts die down as he tried to focus on what Charles had to say next.

“He-he, well, what do you say? You want to help me take them out for good?” – Calvin asked, scratching his own cheek sheepishly. He was still smiling, but it was clear to Henry that Charles was ready for him to say no.

And really, Henry _definitely_ should’ve said no. He’s been out in the tundra for a couple of days, only pausing to rest once as he discovered an abandoned cabin in the woods on his way here. And even then, there was no firewood to keep him warm, the windows were busted, and with no food or water to speak off, so he just waited for a couple of hours, lighting some scraps on fire and warming his hands enough for them to not freeze and fall off already, and then forced himself to move on. He _was_ resistant, and resting at the bar with some warm tea definitely helped him feel a bit better, but definitely not well enough to go on an entire mission, to take down the Toppats nonetheless.

And yet… Seeing Charles smile at him expectantly, the adrenaline of being so close next to him, the warmth of their talk – it all just kinda spun his brain around in rapid succession until he couldn’t really think about himself much at all. He had Charles at his fingertips. He dispelled all of his doubts as to if his sudden need to get ahold of a person was just a momentary spur of lunacy, seeing as actually talking with Charles more and being close to him just made him _want_ and _wish_ so much stronger. Moreover, Charles was offering they go on a mission together once more. _Together_ being the key word here. Henry was confident that after this one, he would definitely get a hold of his number, alluding to him being there if Charles needed help once more and therefore the usefulness of them staying in contact. And besides, an entire mission together, having Charles talking to him though it all once more? Henry was certain they’d get even closer.

All of it meaning he was very close to his wish of getting ahold of one very precious Charles Calvin. Again, he might really be struggling with only ever getting the things he wanted in a way of stealing them before, but he was willing to try something different this time. For Charles. He was more than worth it in his mind, anyway.

Or maybe it was just the sleep deprivation, fatigue and hunger singing one loud serenade in his head. Regardless, he couldn’t even think about stopping himself as he signed a positive answer to Charles’ proposition.

“Awesome!” - the pilot beamed at him, lighting up immediately and giving him a big grin. Henry didn’t even have to think of forcing himself to smile in return then, it just happened so naturally he could barely notice himself doing it. And the next moment, Calvin was jumping up and out of his seat from behind the bar, and Henry had to take a second to realize that they were leaving **right now**. He felt his legs screeching in pain as he stood up as well.

“Alright follow me!” – Charles almost danced to the door, turning around only at his destination, looking at Henry all jolly-like. - “I have a way we can get into space!”

The way he said that, like sharing a special secret, bringing a hand to his face as if to talk more quietly despite not actually lowering his voice. It was just so ridiculous, Henry couldn’t help but snicker, nodding at the pilot eagerly. Calvin seemed more than happy at that reaction, and if Henry wasn’t in a state of nearly passing out, he would say for sure that he saw Charles practically emitting light with his own warm smile. However, Henry _was_ pretty out of it, so he’d just have to check if the pilot could light up like a lightbulb _after_ he had a good night’s sleep.

For now, despite the real answer to that riddle, Henry just couldn’t help himself but think that when Charles looked at him, all smiles and laughs, Stickmin really felt as if he was in the presence of the Sun itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> I've only just started the next chapter, and I've also started going back to the university today, so I'm not sure how much this next one will take, but I'll try my best to get it out here whenever I can.  
> In the meantime, feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, I'm honestly always super excited to read them :')
> 
> Illustrations for this chapter:  
> https://lillovingsoul.tumblr.com/post/629447331065036801/this-is-a-jokey-comic-i-made-for-the-1st-chapter


	3. Chapter 3

“Secret government prototype! What do you think?”

Henry couldn’t really, if he was being honest with himself. The prototype was pretty narrow, being basically just a single-seated saucer with barely enough space for Charles at the control wheel, Henry himself hunched behind him and the storage with various equipment taking the rest of it. Stickmin was forced to hold onto Charles’ seat, fingers periodically brushing against his shoulders and making Henry short-circuit every now and then, feeling the warmth radiating off of the excitable man even through his uniform.

The other thing preventing Henry from thinking straight was the view around them. The prototype had a single window of a top part, allowing the passengers to see all around them clearly, and while the Toppat’s station was pretty near, enormous and intimidating, what Stickmin was overtaken by were the stars. Stars, planets, the Sun, the very void of space itself. It was just all so raw and real, making him feel so miniscule in comparison, that Henry couldn’t help but hold his breath, his head constantly twisting from left to right, trying to properly take it all in.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I noticed you looking,” – Charles suddenly said, his voice very near and filled with wonder and warmth. Henry looked down, catching his gaze and freezing up for a moment because of it, before finally nodding in one choppy motion. Calvin smiled at him sweetly, looking back towards the front of the ship. – “Yeah, I was the same the first time I got out here. There’s really nothing like it, being in outer space. You can’t really expect it no matter how much you’ve read or seen about it.”

As Charles snickered fondly, his posture relaxing as he also let himself look around a bit, Henry just stared at the back of his head, caught up in his own thoughts. Charles might have done this before, but for Henry, this was new. And having someone like Charles guiding him thought the whole thing was definitely the best way to experience it. As he felt his fingers brushing against the pilot’s shoulder again, he let them linger there, and Calvin looked up at him then, letting out a breath of a laugh, ever smiling, like they just shared a good joke. Henry let his own mouth rest in a light grin as well then, his gaze going back at the stars above.

This might’ve been a mission they were both on, but it surely felt like something else entirely.

“There it is,” – the pilot muttered, and as Henry looked forward, he noticed that they indeed were pretty close to the Toppat’s station now. It was a mighty impressive ship, the solar panels a nice touch, giving it a look of having strange, glassy wings. Classy and dangerous all the same. – “Alright, how do you want me to bring you in?”

Henry thought about the question. Really, Charles briefed him about the equipment and useful tools they would have on board, but if Stickmin was honest, he kind of spaced out on most of them. He never really thought out any of his heists in perfect detail, usually just getting a bunch of stuff he could use, coming up with ideas on the spot and just retrying and thinking more right in the middle of action if needed. But before Henry could let himself remember at least something out of the arsenal they had in the back, Charles piped back up again.

“Aw man, this is so exciting! It's just like last time!” – he exclaimed, his enthusiasm clear in his voice. Henry snorted, looking down at the pilot and meeting his gaze once again, getting a toothy smile.

This man and his antics… It surely would be the end of him in one way or another, Henry thought as he felt his heartbeat quickening.

But alas, Charles was also waiting for an answer, so sending a thoughtful glance back to the space station and then looking behind him quickly, frantically trying to come up with anything, his sight suddenly fell onto something floating by their spacecraft, and so without a second thought, Henry briskly signed his plan out.

“Oooh, good idea! Inconspicuous too!” – the pilot gave him a thumbs up, and then started rummaging at the side of his seat immediately, Henry having to move back a bit so he wouldn’t ram right into his side. Which really, he wouldn’t mind, but he also realized that he needed at least a somewhat clear head for this mission to go well, so alas, it was the wisest choice to make.

“Here!” – Charles exclaimed triumphantly, a light but sturdy-looking space suit emerging from the compartment at his side. Must be another government prototype as well, Henry has never seen one quite so compact before. It really did look like just a beige suit with a helmet on top. As he took the thing from the pilot’s hands, feeling it in his grasp, Calvin announced with unmistakable confidence: - “Put on this spacesuit and hide in that ball of trash!”

Inside of it?... Henry was thinking more like using some of it to shield himself, not really encasing himself in it. Plus, wouldn’t that make it harder to control?

“What?” – Charles asked innocuously, seeing Henry’s incredulous expression. He then sneered, crossing his arms in front of him. – “It’s a good idea, trust me!”

And trust he did. Then again, Henry couldn’t really take much credit for that trust, seeing as if it was misplaced, there would be no real consequences for him except for the brief pain and yet another reset. He didn’t really feel like he was ready to see Charles through one though, if he was honest. So far, the pilot only ever told him everything once, Henry never dying around him and so never having to repeat any of it. It felt precious and special to him, Stickmin really didn’t want to lose it.

But then again, this _was_ Charles he was thinking of. Brave and caring Charles Calvin. Back on their mission at the airship, he had a lot of crazy plans, but together they always settled on the one that worked, never failing Henry once. So really, Stickmin had his reasons to trust him, no matter how ridiculous his ideas could often sound.

So after struggling with getting the suit on in such confined space, Henry proceeded to descend to the lower part of the prototype and get out through the airlock, quickly settling into the trash pile. And there he was, in space, in a spacesuit, trash all around him, not really letting him see the stars as clearly as we wanted to at all. Not ideal, but it _could_ work in what they were trying to do, so Henry would endure in. And anyway, the trash _was_ pretty snuggly, letting him half-sit comfortably, which he really appreciated after days of barely being able to sit down, not even in the prototype itself. He couldn’t smell here in his helmet either, so Henry just pretended that he was engulfed in some nice bedding, snug and secure.

Before he could doze off though, the saucer ship above him moved slightly, bumping into the ball of trash and sending him flying accurately in the direction of the space station. At least, Stickmin thought that was what was happening, seeing as he was stuck spinning, pretty sure this was exactly what it was like for clothes when they spun around in the washing machine. It was kind of dizzying, but then again, Henry haven’t really eaten in a while, so he wasn’t really afraid of getting sick in here either. In fact, he thought, eating before going on this mission would’ve probably been a bad idea, especially considering his current flight trajectory. Food… wasn’t what he should’ve been focusing on at that moment, Stickmin realized, as he felt his stomach screech at him lamentably.

Luckily for him, his thought process was severed abruptly when the ball of trash finally collided with the station, the rubbish loosing its structure at the impact and flying in different directions as Henry leaped, his hands getting ahold of some sort of camber on the surface of the station. He embraced it forcefully, steadying himself and settling his legs onto the surface as well. Steady. Secure. As Stickmin settled completely, he let himself throw a glance behind his shoulder and was taken aback by just how far away the prototype was now. He made quite a journey for just spinning around after a light nudge, Henry realized.

“See? I told you it was a good idea! The Toppats have no clue you're there now,” – suddenly, Charles’ voice piped up in his helmet, and Henry felt tremendous relief, realizing how the silence was starting to grate on his nerves and especially ears. Moreover, it was Calvin’s voice. The only voice that actually had a calming effect on him instead of feeling overwhelming or like a nuisance. Henry let out a breath, letting his whole body slack against the surface of the station. - “I'm gonna stick back here though so they don't detect me. Should still be able to help you get inside from here though.”

That was fine, Henry thought. It was just like last time after all. Henry didn’t mind working solo and even doing all the work since, well, he _was_ going to try infiltrating a space station full of hostile criminals. Honestly, he was glad Charles was choosing to stay behind, since Stickmin really felt calmer with it being that way. Failing himself was okay, but if he had to see something bad happening to the pilot, the one who actually had to endure any of the pain that would be inflicted upon him, without a way to reset and try again, Henry sincerely didn’t know what he would do. Definitely get rid of the cause of Calvin’s pain first, of course, but afterwards? Knowing he was basically the reason Charles had to go through that, seeing as he wouldn’t have gotten here in the first place if Henry didn’t agree to it?

Henry simply tried to leave those thoughts behind as he looked around, rapidly trying to get his headspace clear and on the ready for the next step, whatever it could be. Maybe there’s a vent somewhere around here, some kind of entrance. He searched and searched the surface with his eyes yet it remained smooth and entrance-less. But then…

“You know what? Nah,” – out of nowhere, Charles started talking again, voice sounding clear in Henry’s helmet. Clear and filled with some sort of certainty. Stickmin couldn’t help but get a sinking feeling in his stomach, seeing the prototype behind him now steadying itself, ready to move. - “This calls for some bold action.”

Before Henry could even think to oppose or try to come up with another plan, he could already see the space vehicle getting rapidly closer.

“I'm the bold action MAAAAN!” – was singsonged in his ear in a low, victorious voice, and Henry had half a second to think that Charles sounded both ridiculous and immensely charming.

The prototype barely missed him, impacting the surface of the station just above where he was and making a huge hole, which immediately sucked Henry in right after the explosion. Not like Henry could really see the details of what happened really, not with the deafening noise and blinding lights of the prototype blowing up.

“ ** _Warning. Critical damage to core. Evacuate immediately._** ”

When Henry came to, finally opening his eyes, he let himself glance around briefly, quickly realizing that he fell onto some sort of a bridge, his helmet falling off of him on impact and landing a bit further away, the glass broken and littering the metallic floor. Before Stickmin could properly study his surroundings or even catch a breath, there was a loud thump right behind him. Confused and struggling quite a bit to move, he let himself turn around slightly, propping himself on his elbows. There, right behind him, was laying one Charles Calvin. Unmoving. As the realization hit him, Henry felt his breath hitch in his throat, eyes opening up fully as they searched the pilot’s body in a growing panic, searched and searched and—

But then Charles’ body twitched, and the next thing Henry knew, the pilot gathered himself together, now laying there with his head raised and looking at him with a pained but not at all less triumphant smile. As he opened his mouth, a cough escaped his lips and Henry flinched.

“I've always wanted to do that,” – Calvin then said, and there was so much satisfaction in his voice as he uttered that sentence alone that Henry, finally, let himself relax.

Frankly, if this was somebody else, Henry would’ve been angry. Furious even. This was supposed to be basically a stealth mission, seeing as only an idiot or a very desperate and probably a not all there person would try to take over an entire space station full of Toppats openly and on their own. The very idea was crazy and would most likely only ever work for somebody like Henry himself, with the ability to try and fail and try again an infinite amount of times. But Charles – he didn’t have that ability. What he had though, was dream and passion, and also a way to just _not think_ sometimes, apparently.

However, what was much more important – right now, Charles was happy. As they both got up on their feet and Henry felt his arm bending in an unnatural angle, setting it in place in one well-trained and familiar motion and barely flinching, and as Charles dusted himself off, feeling for his headphones and muttering a disappointed “ _Aw, man…_ ” when his fingers traced over the busted metal parts, Henry couldn’t help but realize that Calvin wasn’t bothered at all. Moreover, when the pilot looked back at him and gave him a tired yet very excited grin, and remembering his victorious fanfare that happened right before the impact, Stickmin had to forcefully come to the conclusion that Charles was truly overjoyed with what has just occurred.

A professional pilot crashing their own vehicle, apparently something that Charles has been wanting to do for a while now, the rush of adrenaline clear in the way he now visibly vibrated and hopped from one leg to the other, showing Henry a thumbs up with both of his hands while giving him a huge grin and then glancing around at the debris surrounding them both with clear awe and excitement. This is the same person who was excited to know more about his own criminal activity, Henry realized. The _caring_ and _lawful_ Charles Calvin.

Henry shouldn’t have been surprised, in fact, he wasn’t really. The only thing that did surprise him was the warmth spreading on his cheeks as he watched the pilot poking into the debris and miscellaneous metal parts, giggling lightly and periodically piping up with something like: “ _Oh, this must’ve been the engine! Wow…_ ”. What did surprise Stickmin, was the realization that the more he learned about the way Charles Calvin functioned, the bigger his itch to never be apart from him grew.

Henry wanted to see through it all, Charles doing stupid and silly things and getting excited over something miniscule and unremarkable otherwise. He wanted to experience it all next to the pilot, experience things thought him, through a very excitable and emotive Charles. To see how he ticks and reacts, and maybe try and feel it all himself too. To go through something risky and dangerous and not just dread another reset, but maybe try and hope for a better outcome too, just like Charles seemed to be set on doing.

As Henry watched Charles walking around still, muttering something to himself and jumping shortly from time to time in excitement, he couldn’t help a fond smile finding its way to his lips. Charles truly felt like the biggest treasure he has stumbled upon yet, and that feeling grew the more time he spent in the pilot’s presence.

“Anyway, we should probably find a way off this station before it explodes,” – Charles was back at his side now, seemingly calmed down a bit, but the spark of excitement never leaving his eyes. As Henry flexed his arm, still feeling the dull ache and pain shooting up from his elbow, the pilot looked him up and down, the realization dawning on him, trails of concern now setting on his face. – “Hey, you ok? I… I mean yeah, that _was_ pretty dangerous and I might have gotten a bit carried away but I _did_ miss you, didn’t I?”

Henry nodded briefly, and barely stopped himself from swaying to the side dangerously, his head feeling even more dizzy than before. If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t hurt. He would’ve been fine, just bruises and light injuries as always, nothing he wasn’t used to. But the fact that he hasn’t let his body rest for a long time, not getting any sleep at all and finding barely any sustenance for days now, was really starting to catch up to him. Up to the point of his usually extremely durable body and mind feeling the effects of that explosion at full volume.

But Charles didn’t have to know that. This was his mission, he was on the frontlines now, having fun, and they were doing it together too. And of course, Henry was having just as much fun, finally having the pilot near and constantly getting new information about him, never letting him leave his sight, watching, listening, collecting it all like a sunflower would desperately yearn for the Sun’s bright and enlivening rays. Henry didn’t want to ruin that, taint it with his own weakness which frankly was his own fault of not looking after himself enough on time.

And so to show how perfectly fine he was, and also because he was already pretty sick of just standing there, listening to the blaring alarm, Stickmin moved in the direction of the closest doorway. And of course, the dizziness caught up to him immediately, temporarily blinding his vision and making his brain feel as if it was in the vacuum of space itself, light and floating. And so he tripped, his own legs tangling together and sending him flying to the side. “ _Welp,_ ” – he thought absentmindedly, not even bothering to try and balance himself out, arms going slack at his sides. – “ _Another fall would probably make this even worse._ ”

And yet that fall never came, Henry feeling himself somehow getting stuck in midair. Couldn’t really see how that happened, since he did shut his eyes instinctively, at least some of his preservation instincts still working. But as he felt himself move, standing straight up again, hands of another holding him by his back, Stickmin got a pretty solid idea of what happened.

Henry opened his eyes to see Charles’ face, very close to his and full of concern.

“Henry! Gosh, that won’t do at all,” – he babbled, voice full of worry, now looking him all over. Probably searching for any visible injuries, Henry realized. He just let himself be cared for then, Charles’ brief touches and quiet mutters a lullaby to his consciousness. But then, the pilot stopped altogether, straightening up himself and looking Henry in the eyes with already familiar determination. – “Okay, I’m going to carry you.”

The agility with which Henry flinched away, eyes opened wide in horror and hands going up defensively, could definitely be considered abnormal, especially taking his sorry overall state into account. Charles tilted his head lightly in confusion, one brow going up and his hands leaving Henry’s shoulders, probably to give him more space. Considerate as always.

Being carried by Charles Calvin sounded like too much for Henry, especially right now. Not when their lives were on the line, and him slowing Charles down could get them both killed. Not when he already wasn’t feeling adequate enough and catching himself leaning into every touch the pilot granted him with. Henry would turn into mush in those strong arms of his, he knew that for sure, would probably even fall asleep there, right when Charles needed him most to ensure their escape from the station would be swift and safe. In other words – great plan, **extremely** bad timing.

“I’m fine, just got a bit dizzy,” – Henry signed, as cleanly as he could with his heart booming in his ears and making it extremely hard to focus. He jerked his chin in the direction of the doorway. – “I’ll be fine, we should move.”

“You sure?” – Calvin questioned, seemingly not convinced in the slightest.

Henry did admire how caring the man was, but also now felt immensely annoyed at how accurate that care always hit him. So, instead of trapping himself even further by accidentally revealing how awful he actually felt, Stickmin took a deep breath, heaved and moved forward, past the pilot and towards the door. When he looked back over his shoulder and noticed Calvin still eyeing him worriedly, barely moving from his spot, Henry cursed a ton in his own thoughts and, making a point of trying not to look at the pilot at all, grabbed the wrist of his right hand and advanced further, dragging Charles with him. Thankfully, the man was seemingly so surprised with such a turn of events that he didn’t even try to resist him.

“O-okay!” – he yelped from behind, his hand twisting and getting ahold of Henry’s in return, which would’ve definitely made him trip immediately if he wasn’t so focused on making his legs carry him as steadily as possible. Stickmin absolutely would **not** look back at Charles. No objections, _and_ he basically held his hand too. Henry tried so hard not to think further about this, but the heat dancing on his cheeks just wouldn’t cease no matter what.

Thankfully, they didn’t go like this for long, reaching the next doorway with the door closed shut in a tilt, mechanism misplaced, probably malfunctioning in the explosion. As Charles stopped beside him, Henry let go of his hand, desperately trying to fix his own mistake and let his heartbeat settle down enough to focus on the mission. **God** , they were still on a mission! With his thoughts only being focused on Charles, what he did and said, his gestures and touches and then their interlocked hands, Henry almost completely forgot why they were even here. This was urgent, they made their move and had to leave now. He had to remember it, for the sake of Charles too.

“Ah looks like the door's jammed. This is the only way through!” – as Charles moved forward, looking the door over, Henry’s gaze jumped around, gradually getting more and more worried. He got so focused on the pilot, he completely forgot they were in actual danger of the entire station blowing up. What was happening with him? He could actually barely think or focus, his gaze hovering over their surroundings, brief and completely lost, and always drifting back towards Charles again and again.

Focus, Stickmin, focus! There has to be some way to escape!

“I bet this vent leads somewhere...on the other side,” – Henry was already starting to sweat from trying to focus on focusing alone so hard, when Charles mused aloud, looking back at him. Having not came up with anything else himself, and not wanting to stall them any further, Stickmin nodded choppily. Calvin graced him with a sympathetic smile for some godforsaken reason, making Henry sweat even more, and turned around, unlatching the vent’s lid.

He crouched to get inside, and Henry settled down next to him, waiting for the pilot to move, his knees screaming in pain at the motion. God, he was **not** looking forward to crawling through the cramped vents on all fours when just getting down like this was making him wish he could fall over and stay like that for a week or two. And yet, he pushed on, getting inside the vent entrance after Charles, stifling his own hisses as he felt the metal scraping his skin even through the spacesuit, unkind and harsh.

“You okay back there?” – Charles called out to him, pausing for a second, and Henry had to halt himself in time as to not ram into the pilot right there and then. He hummed in confirmation, feeling the man advancing forward again as soon as he heard him. Gritting his teeth, Henry moved on as well, thankful to have the space suit on to at least protect his already aching palms. – “Don’t worry buddy, we’ll be out soon, the escape pods should be very close to here!”

Words of encouragement were definitely welcomed, even needed, much more than Henry realized. Now that he thought about it, the prospect of getting out of here with Charles by his side, finally getting into a nice safe place to sleep over, some food maybe, and then getting to meet the pilot again in a much better state sounded like a dream come true. The mere thought of it all settled down in his brain like a sweet, warming mist, making him focus much less on the pain and much more on the future. A future next to Charles…

There was a sound coming from in front of him. Speech. Words. Singing, Henry finally recognized. Charles was singing, humming a familiar tune and adding nonsensical lyrics on top of it. Something about them crawling through the vents. As he listened on, Henry could swear he felt the corners of his eyes sting. Singing in the vents was something so incredibly ridiculous, and so incredibly _like Charles_ , Stickmin felt a bit overwhelmed at the realization. Never a dull moment with Charles, never a moment of fear or worry with him, his very presence and many quirks constantly lifting Henry’s mood, distracting him, making him think of something much better than them being stuck in a space station that was about to—

An explosion went off somewhere below them, the vents’ walls trembling, Henry feeling the vibrations through his whole being. Charles’ singing got cut off as well. A shame.

“Oh boy, we're running out of time,” – the pilot murmured, seemingly picking up the pace, which, really, was quite a wise thing to do. And so Henry followed his example, gritting his teeth once again and trying to pay no mind to the pain, instead focusing on the good things sure to come.

“We made it,” – finally, after what felt like an eternity and a half, Charles announced over his shoulder, and Henry felt himself letting out a sigh of relief, slumping onto his elbows completely.

There was a sound and next thing he knew - the vent cover was opened halfway. Sounds of hurried running could be heard then, and Henry noticed someone falling over and quickly getting back onto their feet as a crowd passed by their location. Toppats trying to escape just like they were, no doubt. Honestly, Henry was just relieved they haven’t had an encounter with any of them so far. Usually he might’ve given it his all, be it when it came to a fight or to making a haste getaway. But he was absolutely sure that in the state he was in right now, he would have no means of either fighting or really escaping. And pinning the action onto Charles just felt incredibly wrong, again, Henry being afraid of the more than likely possibility of him getting hurt.

So when they both got out of the vents, Charles standing up first, cautiously looking around and then leaning over to offer his hand to Henry, Stickmin taking it without a second thought, the sight of the only Toppat being near having been crushed by a part of the ship was more than a little relieving. Yet, when he and Charles exchanged glances and moved forward hastily, making a turn to finally see the escape pods room, Henry could see a Toppat quickly getting into the only open one, a sinking feeling settling into his stomach at the sight. Alright, the furthest right one was definitely out of the question. The furthest left one already departed. Which left them with two options: an escape pod with the title “Luxury” engraved into it, and an escape pod with easily noticeable cracks in the window.

Really, there wasn’t much to think about – the “luxury” pod was more than likely reserved for the cream of the crop Toppats, the higher ups. Even getting near there seemed like a bad idea. Thankfully, Henry didn’t have to voice his thoughts, as Charles got a hold of his wrist, Henry latching on as well on instinct, once again intertwining their hands together, the pilot now leading them to the pod in the middle at a brisk pace. There were explosions audible from below, seemingly getting closer, so the hurry was more than justified. Still, as soon as they were at their destination, Henry felt their hands letting go of each other. It was for the better, really, and seemed like a logical thing to do now that they weren’t moving, but Stickmin still felt a pang in his heart, buzzing painfully. He wished they’d just hold hands forever, the sensation a much needed push of confidence to him as well as a reassurance of Charles being near.

Focus, Henry, focus! Almost there. Escaping the space station safely comes first, a conversation about holding hands together forever – second.

Now standing in front of the broken window, Henry let himself steal a nervous glance at Charles, gulping lightly and getting an encouraging nod from the pilot before going to push the button to open the pod. When nothing happened, Stickmin didn’t let the panic settle down onto him, pushing the button again and again frantically before finally practically punching it in and getting the door to open. Beside him Charles breathed out a sigh of relief, and as their eyes met once more, the pilot gave Henry a triumphant smile, Stickmin matching it right away. It felt even more natural every time it happened.

“Ahh, well that was intense,” – Calvin breathed out as he plopped down into one of the seats, Henry settling down right across from him. The pod was small, but comfortable enough, much better than Henry expected, he noted as he looked around briefly. Looking back to Charles, his eyes settled onto his relaxed smile as the pilot continued talking: - “Can't wait to go ho- Huh?”

Henry couldn’t have even mentally processed what happened then, his head getting dizzy at the sudden force throwing him out of his seat and back onto the already familiar floor of the space station, face shoved down so he couldn’t see even if his vision _wasn’t_ all just black and white dots. There were sounds of struggle around him but Stickmin could barely register the sources or what they could mean. Before he could even begin to try and get up, there were arms around him, and he was getting thrown somewhere once again, vision blackening completely and arms flailing behind.

He felt his shoulders collapsing with the metal flooring once more, the light from above blinding him and finally getting him to come to his senses. Henry sat up carefully, his weight supported by his arms on the floor, and that’s when he finally noticed the fight. The Toppat with a small red hat dashing forward, apparently trying to get to him, Charles on the floor behind him, desperately reaching up, when the escape pod’s door suddenly closed, the Toppat barely reaching it before falling over. Henry felt a rush of adrenaline hitting his whole being, limbs on fire as he got onto his feet in one quick leap, suddenly very aware of being definitively cut off from Charles.

As the engines of the escape pod came to life around him, the face of the Toppat was shoved right into its window, Charles holding his arms in a lock behind him and getting a look at Henry as well.

“Don't worry about me,” - he grunted, the Toppat desperately trying to get free but being no match for Charles’ strong hold. Henry couldn’t breathe, his eyes going over Calvin’s pained face in a panicked frenzy, his body suddenly paralyzed with fear. - “I'll find another way!”

Before Henry could think of anything, make himself move, get the doors opened again, the escape pod launched, and Stickmin got a frantic hold of the window, palms glued to it as he steadied himself against the force of the moving pod, eyes never leaving Charles as his face got smaller and smaller, further away with every passing second. The engines around him roared in a low, steady rhythm, overwhelming his senses, and before he knew it, the pod got too far away for him to see anything now. Henry stumbled, knees buckling but keeping himself upright by his hold on the window alone. He was looking, searching for signs, any more escape pods, anything from the direction of where he left from. Charles had to get out of there, the station was about to explode. He **had** to.

“Henry? You there?” – suddenly, the pilot’s voice came through the pod’s intercom, scratchy but still there. Stickmin didn’t have the time to stop and think about just _how_ Calvin got a hold of the airwaves so quickly, so focused on his voice alone. Charles was there, alive, still on the space station. He had to get out! - “Man... that roughed me up. Got him though. Gotta be another escape pod around here somewhere.”

There had to be, Henry thought. His eyes never left the sight of the station, and he could feel his entire body going completely tense, wound up like a string, unable to move anymore as he just watched on, searched and waited. He _had_ to get out, another escape pod would definitely be there, or maybe something esle to help him.

“We did it though. We got 'em. Pretty good plan,” – Charles was out of breath, Henry could hear it. Not a good sign at all. He didn’t sound like he was moving around either, why, the station was about to explode! He had to get out of there, had to. - “You could say it was the greatest--“

Blinding, deafening even from within the escape pod; the station went out in a gigantic explosion, sending chills down Henry’s spine. This could not be happening. Charles’ voice got cut off so quickly too, he was on about something important, his wish, his greatest plan, why wasn’t he finishing the sentence? Henry felt his eyes sting, painful, hard to look now, the sight of the explosion getting blurry. Crying, he was crying, that was what was happening. He felt himself twitch, arms going up and landing back onto the glass with force, desperate, unbelieving. He had to get in there, help Charles get out. Charles had to get out. He had to be safe and here, next to him. He had to…

Henry felt himself hyperventilating, his sobs now deafening the roar of the engines, going limp against the glass and sliding down onto the metal floor. Charles was supposed to get out. They were both supposed to be here now, in this escape pod, safe and sound, ready to go back down. Ready to go _home_ , as Charles said. Henry had no home now, nothing to return to, and that wasn’t even about his old apartment he wouldn’t feel safe in anymore. Charles would not be there waiting for him on the planet, wouldn’t be around for Henry to stumble into again and go on another mission or two, to spend more time together, to see, do and experience things like Henry could never have before.

There was no home for him on Earth, and there was no Sun for him up above, for the damned space station exploded and took his Sun with it.

* * *

The fall felt like it didn’t happen at all, Henry swimming in and out of consciousness as he cried on, the quickened breathing making his whole being shaky and all senses dulled. Still, he could feel the impact as the engines roared for the final time, landing him safely onto the planet somewhere, shaking the whole pod violently and then stilling all at once. Felt like solid ground. Henry could not care less, he should not have been here in the first place, not without Charles. It felt wrong, like the entire world got misshapen, distorted, the flow of time and the events happening one after the other all blurred and out of order, nowhere near their rightful places.

He was just at the space station. He stumbled upon Charles in a bar lost in the tundra not so long ago. He was the one who agreed to go on this mission, knowing full well he was not in the shape to protect the pilot, and understanding that the very concept of that mission had odds stacked against them both. Henry said yes because Charles was smiling at him so sweetly then, his eyes giving him all of the attention he had just barely realized he desired, and Henry so desperately wanted it to be his forever. He extended his grabby hands, always reaching, always taking, never giving in return, and he grabbed onto Charles Calvin with an iron grip, latching on like a leech and staying there, observing, relishing in the pilot’s warmth and welcoming glow. He wanted it to be his, and so as always he took it without a second thought, ready to live with the consequences, or so he thought.

But Charles was not some inanimate jewel. And Charles wasn’t even the usual person Henry had to deal with on a daily basis. As they went on through their mission, Charles would not only grant Henry with his presence, but with his care as well, worrying about him and being there for him every step of the way. Henry had to forcefully realize the patterns in his behavior, his words and kind gestures all leading to the agonizing conclusion of the pilot caring about him through and through. He was concerned about Henry being injured. He was not questioning of being physically close to him, seemingly welcoming and encouraging it. He cheered him on and distracted him from the impending doom heavily breathing down both of their necks. And in the end, Charles chose Henry over himself without a second thought, knowing full well that this would be the final decision he would make.

Charles couldn’t go back in time and be safe again. Henry could. And despite it all, Henry was the one who _stayed_ safe, and Charles was the one who threw all of himself away just to keep it that way.

There was no other way to go about it, no doubts in sight. Charles’s presence on that mission, him having to get into a fight that inevitably lead to his death in that bright, blinding explosion. There was only one cause for it all.

It was all Henry’s fault.

Stickmin felt himself hiccupping, lungs desperate for air and yet the panic squeezing his throat and making him choke and gasp out, trembling. He had episodes like this one before, but they always passed in a short while, nothing ever being important enough to be on the line and for him to worry that hard about but his own life. He had it all figured out, he took his chances and was fully ready to take the consequences too, to get himself injured and killed again and again, suffer through the reset and try once more. But this time, things were much more different.

It was so stuffy in the pod now, and Henry felt as if he breathed through all the air there was. He would suffocate here and barely care about it. It would be a fate worthy of what his dirty, wretched hands did to the only being that could ever matter.

And yet, as the time passed and his breathing settled down, his tears running dry, eyes hurting, irritated, the world around him still moved on. He could hear sounds surrounding him, revving of machines, talking, footsteps and finally, the hiss of the escape pod’s door. As it moved to the side, Henry could feel fresh air hitting him all at once, choking on it at the abruptness of it all, going into a coughing fit. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, he could still feel the light of the outside world now on him, on his face, warming up his skin through the stuffy space suit almost immediately.

“Hey! Get up and get out, and no tricks! You’re surrounded,” – suddenly, a command, booming voice barking at him mercilessly. – “No weapons, we won’t hesitate to shoot first.”

Weapons… Ah yes, Henry remembered, he _was_ in an escape pod belonging to one of the most notorious criminal organizations. The ones who actually fancied weapons. He never really used them, not unless he suddenly found one at his disposal on a heist.

How long ago was it that he even went on a heist…?

“Hey! You hear me or are you deaf? Get up or I’ll make you,” – the same voice again, grating, menacing. Henry had no doubt he would be forced out of here against his will if he wouldn’t move in the next moments, and frankly, he was injured enough to _not_ wish for the rough treatment then.

Trembling, movements uncertain and choppy, he rose up, hands gripping onto the metal walls around him. His head felt like hell itself, pure lead, vision blurry and periodically blacking out completely. He felt like death and wished for it too.

“Hey, isn’t that Henry Stickmin?” – another voice, higher an octave. Henry forcibly opened his eyes, squinting at the sunlight hitting his face directly now that he was up. There, at the entrance to the escape pod, stood a couple of soldiers. Behind them, barely visible from here, Stickmin could make out a couple of military vehicles, a truck and a car. – “Were you with the Toppats?”

The soldier speaking had ginger hair sticking out at all sides from under his cap, looking at him in surprise now. The one at the front, having short and barely visible dark hair, didn’t seem nearly as impressed though. Henry felt he recognized that one, but even if he did, it’s not like he ever paid attention to anyone who he met on his heists and day-to-day life before, and _especially_ not the military. With one very special exception.

“Hey-hey… Is he crying?” – the ginger piped up again, pressing onto the brunette’s shoulders as he leaned closer, earning a hiss and a warning glare from his partner and backing up immediately. Great, the military making fun of him before locking him up somewhere far away without even trying to comprehend how he got there was the last thing he wanted. Henry had to at least _try_ and get out of this, if he wanted to—

“Henry, huh? What, your station blew up and now you’re sad?” – the dark-haired soldier questioned, tone mocking, unimpressed. Stickmin noted the way he shifted the gun in his hands, on the ready. Something had to be done before the situation escalated, and being silent just wouldn’t cut it this time.

Not like it did with Charles. Calvin understood and hasn’t forced him to talk once.

Henry let himself breathe, shuddering, trying to stop the trembling he could feel every time he attempted to move the fingers of his hands. In. And out. He had to tune those thoughts out, there was a very uncomfortable situation at hand and he had to deal with that first. Focus, Henry.

He raised his hands lightly, starting to move them as steadily as he could manage. The soldiers both first tensed up at the movement, guns going up, but as Henry pressed on, there was a silent moment full of confused glances thrown around, and a lot of staying still.

“He’s signing… Man, you’re lucky we had to learn that at the academy,” – the brunette scoffed, gun going down now as the ginger followed his example behind him, albeit not at all as confident. As another soldier approached, one more ginger, the former two probably being twins, or so Henry figured, they both went on to murmur between each other quietly, the soldier at the front giving them a quick stern glance before looking back to Henry: - “Alright, go again.”

What was there even to say? Henry was already signing nonsense, ready for the soldiers to not understand a word of it and to maybe just confuse them enough to be able to escape. Now that he knew at least one of them could understand him, he had to actually understand what would make sense to random soldiers stumbling upon him in a Toppat escape pod. There wasn’t much he could lie about, but the raw truth itself sounded barely believable. A government helicopter pilot who he met once before, asking him out on an extremely important mission and then just—Sacrificing himself, for that very person he has only met twice. Twice, they only met twice and yet Henry felt as if they spent weeks together by now. It had been so easy, talking to Charles, holding his hand, stealing glances, exchanging smiles. And now it was all gone, as quick and sudden as it appeared.

Henry felt himself trembling, noticing the twins eyeing him in concern. Yet the soldier at the front would not budge, his look stern, impatient. Stickmin let out a shuddering sigh, wiping off his tears briefly and getting back to signing. Or at least, trying to.

“Charles,” – he took great care in finger spelling his name, his movements slow and uncharacteristically gentle. As he did, he felt his thought process dissolving once again. He wished so hard that the pilot would just be here with him. He wished to hold his hand again, and this time to make sure he would never let go. He wished… Henry breathed out of his nose, attempting to focus the best he could with his thoughts all scrambled, fixated on the memory of that excited smile, and the overwhelming grief that came with it. – “Took on a mission.”

“Charles… Calvin?” – the brunette questioned, one brow going up. The twins behind him lightened up. They were watching him sign as well, Henry noted.

“Oh, that one’s a special case, ha-ha,” – the one on the left piped up, grinning, as his twin scoffed beside him, and yet there was no malice to it.

These people knew Charles. The thought of that felt both relieving and devastating to Henry. They probably knew much more about the pilot than he did, them spending much more time in his presence, all stuck in the military together. Henry wished so hard that he could just force their memories out then and there, relishing at the new information and getting at least one more glance at Charles. Knowing at least a bit more about him. He wanted to know all, but at this point, with the itch settled deep into his heart, he would take anything he could get.

“What, are you saying you two were on a mission together? Him and a criminal like you?” – the brunette snarled, incredulous. The twins behind him exchanged glances, and only Henry could see it, but they both seemed to come to the same conclusion. However, what it was, Stickmin had no way of knowing. So instead, he just pressed on.

“To take down the space station,” – the further he signed, the more he felt exhaustion overtaking him, and he slumped onto the wall of the escape pod in the process as to not slide down completely. The longer he stayed awake, the less he could function, yet things just kept piling up, making it even worse. He could not even remember the last time he didn’t have troubles focusing on his gestured. Yet, somehow, despite his signing being decently slurred, words blending together, the soldiers seemed to catch on.

“Hey, that checks out,” – the second twin, who has been silent all this time, confirmed, his brother nodding with great enthusiasm. The brunette turned around only slightly, confused at the interruption. It was clear he wasn’t the one with all the info here, no matter how hard he tried to make it seem that way. – “Charles was on that Toppat aircraft mission with him a bit more than a week ago, and he would **not** shut up about this dang thief ever since. He would definitely go on another mission with him given the chance, he told us so multiple times. And you know Calvin, he’s not really one to make clever decisions.”

Charles… talked about him? Not only did he think about him, but he would talk about him as well? And quite a lot, from the sound of it. That was a piece of information Henry welcomed, since it _was_ something new about Charles, but also could not for the life of him contain in his own brain. Was he… really so impressed with him after that first mission? Or was he really that curious about the way he broke into things, seeing as he interrogated Stickmin about that the first chance he got? Or maybe was it just Henry himself that he couldn’t get out of those thoughts of his? The way Charles’ brain functioned was an enigma, one mystery Henry was yet to solve, and yet the thought of any of his guesses being even close to the truth made his heart pang, uneasy and flurried.

Henry wanted to wonder if there was a chance Charles would want to indulge him in his ill intentions and for some reason _want_ to be near him too. Yet that was the only thing that Henry had left. Wondering and having no way of knowing now. It hurt quite a lot, the realizations rolling over him like persistent waves, each one hitting him harder than the last one, and he was just left standing there, his feet barely holding him and his insides feeling hollow and numb, a black hole forming right in the middle of his being, slowly but surely consuming him whole.

“Okay well, you couple of lunatics _did_ take out the Toppats somehow. Great job, the General will be pleased,” – the brunette proclaimed, smirking at the twins who both seemed more than thrilled at that, and then turning back to Henry. However, the sight of Stickmin standing there, the only reason for him still staying upright being the steady walls of the escape pod that he heavily leaned on, his face a mess of tears and bruises, made the soldier falter for a moment. There was still something they were all missing here, like viewers arriving at the theater play late and now trying to catch up by asking around and getting bits of information out of order. Then, Henry could see it on his face, it suddenly dawned on him. – “Wait, but where’s Charles?”

He could feel his tear ducts opening up once more, his mind clouding up in recent memories, the sounds of the explosion distant but still feeling so real. He sniffed, held his breath and then sniffled again, feeling the weight of the question crushing his shoulders all at once, his breath quickening as he gave up the fight and just let the cries come out, quiet yet persistent.

“Shit, he’s hyperventilating,” – bending over and letting the tears fall freely, Henry could no longer see the soldiers suddenly thrown for a loop, shuffling around, someone certainly getting closer, someone mumbling something, voices feeling dull and distant to his ears. Then there was a weight on his shoulder, and the gesture felt so painfully familiar, he had no strength left in him to stifle the sudden whimper leaving him. – “Buddy, where the heck is Charles? We have to know, you can’t hide that from us.”

It was the brunette that was next to him, Henry realized. Suddenly much less pressing and much more compliant now that he realized that the pilot not being there in the escape pod as well couldn’t have really meant anything good. Stickmin covered his face, desperately trying to get his own breathing under control and failing. He had to tell them, they had the right to know. He did this, this was the least he could offer.

“Go… Gone,” – Henry sobbed out finally, fingers clutching onto his own face in a futile attempt to ground himself. The weight on his shoulder left almost immediately, and as Stickmin felt the sobs rocking his body violently, he had no way to stop himself from slipping further down the wall, onto the floor, hiding his face in his own knees. The air was no more, and the tears were too much. His head felt like it would implode in on itself. He had to stop this, this was no place for shutting down completely, not the right company either, and yet he had no ways of making it any better.

He was gone, and it was his fault. Charles wasn’t near him anymore, he sacrificed himself for him and now Henry was here, back on Earth, all alone. Charles was gone and it was all his fault. His fault, only his, he was the one who agreed to the mission, it was entirely on him, if it wasn’t for him Charles wouldn’t have been anywhere near that space station, that explosion, it was Henry who did this and now he wasn’t here anymore. He wished so hard that he would come back, that he just had to open his eyes and see the pilot right in front of him again, once again worried for him like he didn’t have to be. He would talk to him and ask the reason for his cries, and Henry would have no reason then. And yet Charles wasn’t anywhere near him, the only ones in front of him – a group of soldiers, shell-shocked and silent, all watching him melt down into a pile of sobs and twitches, and there was nothing to be done. There was nothing—

The atmosphere shifted, people around him coming to life once more, murmuring to each other.

“Fuck. That’s bad.”

“Who’s gonna tell the General?”

“Oh man, the General will be devastated…”

Henry remembered the General, back from that airship mission. He also remembered the man calling the pilot _Charlie_ , and there was certain fondness and warmth to it as he watched Calvin pilot the helicopter. Probably a father figure. Someone else would grieve as well, Henry was not alone in this, he thought. He didn’t care, he also decided right away.

“He died a hero though, took out the Toppats! A death worth having,” – one of the soldiers, one of the twins had the audacity to say and if only Henry wasn’t such a crying mess at the moment, if only he had enough strength, he would’ve leaped onto the man right then and there and choked him dead with his own bare hands.

“ ** _No_** ,” – he wanted to shout then. – “ ** _No it wasn’t!_** ” No death would have been worth it. All of the Toppat clan combined wasn’t worth even the tip of Charles’ pinkie. Nothing could ever be worth him and his life.

Henry was stuck there, his thoughts spiraling, full of anger and grief, frustrated at the soldiers, at the Toppats, at everything and everyone, and most of all, at himself. This was not fair, he told himself. He did this and deserved it all, he was also convinced. He wanted it to stop, he pleaded with himself. He had to endure it all and more and it still wouldn’t be enough for what he did to Charles, he also reasoned.

There was a weight on his shoulders, and then all around him, surrounding him in a secure feeling, engulfing him in safety and warmth. His breathing hitched and he let his head rise only a bit, enough to see the dark-haired soldier fixing a shock blanket around him. Their eyes met, and Henry was barely responsive enough to register the pity in the soldier’s eyes. He wanted none of it, but the blanket felt like the one thing he needed to finally ground him, the bullet train of his thoughts finding the stop signal and gradually coming to a screeching halt, leaving his head uncharacteristically empty now as he clutched the blanket around him, gaze unfocused, stuck on one of the escape pod walls. Henry let himself sink even further under the blanket, appearing as small as possible. Now slowly coming to, he realized that he hated being seen, the eyes of others on him, thinking thoughts he couldn’t care enough about but irritating him nonetheless. He wished so badly he would be back in his apartment, silent and empty, so he could just grieve in peace.

In reality, what happened was, the soldiers gave him about ten minutes of silence, leaving him to sniff and cry alone, before one of the twins came back and called for him to follow them to their base. Henry had neither the strength nor the resolve to decline, standing up shakily and getting out of the pod, not looking back once as he got into the back of the military car. The truck was for the group of Toppats they were expecting to find, he was told by one of the twins, as the other one left to join the driver who Henry never saw. Instead, they were bringing back a thief who wasn’t even supposed to be the part of the operation, and who they had nothing on at that point, seeing as he got pardoned the last time the government crossed paths with him. Probably a disappointment. Not enough to match the news of their prized helicopter pilot not making it though, of course. Suppressing the sick feeling rising in his stomach, Henry looked out of the window and had the luck of not thinking much of anything as he watched the landscape shift on their way to the military base.

The base was relatively spacious, a huge part of the jungles cut off by fences and metal wires, countless tents of different shapes and sizes in sight, all made out of the same khaki colored material. Henry was lead out and into one of the bigger tents. They had to warn the General of his arrival first, he was told by one of the twins. The brunette soldier gave him one long, heavy glance before asking him if he wanted to lay down. When Henry shook his head no, only half-registering the question, the soldier firmly told him to sit on one of the benches instead. Henry felt like he had tunnel vision, barely registering where he was, much less that there were benches to sit on, so he just nodded and followed the order without complaints.

As he settled down, the blanket still secure around him, he let himself shuffle around before getting onto the very corner of the seating, feeling vulnerable, exposed, trying to appear as small as possible. He remembered feeling and doing the same back when he was stuck at the orphanage: staying quiet, appearing small, getting as far away from everyone as possible, always stuck in his head, only ever interacting with others by observing and getting caught staring. Except, right now he wasn’t observing anyone, the only person worth observing now only an archive of memories in his own head. That was the only difference, really.

The bench creaked as someone sat down beside him, instantly making him want to appear even smaller at their disturbance alone. Henry felt far too threatened as is, and he had no desire to speak to anyone, not until he would inevitably be forced to face the General and have to be told his own fate depending on how convincingly he would be able to recite the only truth there was to be told. He met Charles in a bar in the middle of the tundra. The pilot smiled his wonderful smile at him and asked him to go on a mission with him. Henry agreed because he could only think by his greed and not with his actual brain. They got into space. The station got damaged. They had to evacuate. There was a Toppat at the escape pods. Charles fought them. Charles shoved Henry into the last escape pod left. Charles pressed the launch button. Charles contacted him through the intercom. Charles—

“Hey,” – rang the voice from beside him, shattering his train of thoughts, and suddenly Henry was very aware of someone hovering very close to him.

As he turned to the right, he was immediately met with a pair of curious hazel eyes staring at him unabashedly. Henry flinched in the opposite direction, finally getting a better view of the one who disturbed his peace – a red-headed girl with some bandages on the side of her head, flaming hair sticking out at odd angles. She felt vaguely familiar, but with how little Henry seemed to be able to control his thought process at the moment, he had no hope for ever remembering where he could’ve seen her before. And frankly, he wasn’t at all desperate to find out anyway, instead preferring for her to back away as soon as possible, already feeling his heartbeat quickening as the sounds and colors of the outside world finally got to his senses, already starting to overwhelm them.

“You’re that guy from The Wall, aren’t you? That was a pretty bold escape you did there,” – the girl went on, seemingly not at all disrupted by the very unfriendly reaction Stickmin gave her. She looked at him and it seemed like there was no malice to it, and yet right now everything felt like too much and definitively bad to Henry, so it didn’t really change much. She smiled at him, and Henry didn’t feel even a pang of a desire to match it. He already did, so easily before, with someone else. This wasn’t the smile he wanted to see. The girl pressed on, and Henry had to do his hardest to focus enough to even begin to comprehend her speech. – “They all got distracted and I escaped as well! So thanks. Seems we both ended up in the military, huh?”

His thoughts finally caught up to him as he felt himself shifting very slightly away without a real intention to, his body working on its own. That’s right, this was someone he saw at The Wall. He met her when they were both waiting to be put into their respective cells. Before he escaped. Before he met Charles again. Before the whole mission and—

Henry felt himself start the whole routine again, the air escaping him once more, eyes stinging, and so he twisted the blanket around him enough for it to reach to his face and hid, hid like he was so used to doing. He curled in on himself, willing the world to get as far away from his as possible, the sounds too much, the sight too much, the thoughts too much, and as he forcibly squinted his eyes closed, he was back in that escape pod, the vastness of space surrounding him, the stars bleak in comparison to the light show of an explosion happening right in front of him, loud and clear through the cracked glass. He saw his hands banging on the window, his vocal chords straining from a shout he never let out, and so he breathed and breathed, the air never enough, getting lightheaded as the headache rang on in his ears.

“Hey-hey! Easy!” – very distant, but he could still hear it. There was a creak beside him, sounds of a hastily departing footsteps. Henry could barely process the gesture, still stuck in space. – “I’m sorry, I’ll back off.”

It took him some minutes then, to descend back onto Earth once again. He shuffled the blanket around, fresh air hitting his face, and so he breathed once more, but this time with a certain thought behind it. Despite the sight of the space station in shambles still being a ghostly image in front of his vision, he pushed the memories aside, instead trying to focus on simple counting. In. And out. In. Slowly but surely, he could feel himself coming back, both his vision and sight re-focusing. There was medical equipment around. People laying in beds, bandaged up. This must be the medquarters. As Henry felt his headache rage on, actually making him consider moving into the bed, he wondered if there was a chance for him to get something to make it go away here. Then again, food and water probably came first, then sleep.

The red-headed girl caught his glance, looking quite disturbed and avoiding his gaze almost immediately. He must’ve scared her off, which was understandable, really. And it’s not like he cared much. Henry sniffled, using the blanket to try and clean his face at least a bit so as to hopefully not catch anyone else’s attention, the gesture most likely in vain. He didn’t need a mirror to know that with the way he felt, he must’ve looked even worse.

“What’s with that guy?” – Henry overheard the girl speaking to the guard standing at the entrance of the tent, her voice quiet but still pretty easy to hear. Henry didn’t take offence as he saw her looking at him once more, seemingly completely lost as to what to make of him.

“Came back from a mission with Charles Calvin,” – the soldier answered, brief, his back to Henry so he had no way of seeing his face.

“Oh, the one and only! Wait, what, is that like a bad thing?” – the girl seemed to lighten up at the mention of the name. Everyone had so far, as far as Henry noticed. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who found the pilot to be as bright as a shiny jewel. Henry grimaced at the thought.

“Not usually. Calvin didn’t make it before the space station blew up,” – the soldier’s voice was monotone, and Stickmin had to force himself back to counting as to not get back into hyperventilating once again. Seemed the guard had much more resolve than he did when it came to bad news.

“Wh--… Blew up? Are you serious!?” – the girl however, reacted accordingly. Like a normal person would, the one not used to seeing others come and go. Henry was accustomed to the thought of not being one of those, but judging by the amount of tears he’s cried so far roughly equating to an ocean or two, apparently he had been gravely mistaken.

As the soldier seemed to nod shortly, the girl leaned onto the wall, her hand coming up to her forehead, expression showing clear distress. There was something disturbingly comical about it, Henry thought then. Wherever he went so far, he seemed to bring a wave of suffering with him, people around him matching the grief he felt. It would’ve been comforting, if only Stickmin would stop blaming himself for a second and actually try and strive to find comfort in things instead. But of course, he wouldn’t

“Oh… Oh man, that sucks,” – red-head stammered, brows furrowing. – “I didn’t even get to meet the guy too, the General told me so much about him… Shit, that’s awful.”

“Yeah,” – the guard at the entrance was curt as ever. Both Henry and the girl seemed displeased with that kind of reaction. – “But what can you do? Things like that tend to happen here.”

Red-head didn’t say anything then. Instead, she looked back at Henry, and there it was again. Pity. Stickmin was starting to despise it with a passion. He was not the one they should all be pitying at all. He hated it, and so he looked away, gaze stuck on the dirty thin material serving as flooring for the tent. He hated crying, hated grieving, and most of all, he hated not having the pilot near. Knowing he wouldn’t be near anymore. It was such an overwhelming realization, he had no strength to wrap his mind around it, overbearing, suffocating. He would never be here again. Henry was the cause of it, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. He had to do something, anything—

“Henry Stickmin, the General is waiting for you.”

He felt himself flinching, head shooting up as his name got called out, vision going black once again. He was already used to it by then. There was the familiar dark-haired soldier at the entrance, waiting, eyeing him expectantly. The girl stood to the side, next to the guard. Henry avoided looking at any of them as he got up, careful not to trip and fall over, the shock blanket falling from his shoulders and staying on the bench.

He would face the General, and he would accept whatever Fate had in store for him next, readily. And then, whenever he would be finally left alone, all these people far away, finally able to breathe freely and think straight, he would change this. He had to.

Henry had a gift, and it was about time he used it for something worthwhile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally everything was against me writing this chapter but I actually did it and I'm so relieved you have no idea shsdhj... I've struggled a lot with it for many different reasons though, so I apologize if it's not as neat as the previous ones :(  
> Regarding the plot:  
> 1\. We're just getting started, finally  
> 2\. There will be no permanent deaths please do not fret, I have stated so from the very beginning in the tags!  
> 3\. There will be no chapter without Charles in it because without the Sun we will all perish :(
> 
> In any case, thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate your support, and I loved reading through all your thoughts. So if you have any about this chapter, please feel free to comment ;u;
> 
> Illustrations to this chapter:  
> https://lillovingsoul.tumblr.com/post/630715344477208576/here-are-some-illustrations-to-the-latest-chapter


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